The 24th Hour
by Shaded Reality
Summary: Alfred was just another average man, married, adopted kid, and the number one lawyer in the entire state of New York. But what will he do when his own family is put in danger? USUK. Continuation!
1. Chapter 1

**I know what you're already thinking. 'Wait, isn't there already a fanfiction called _The 24th Hour? _With the same beginning chapter?' Yes. Yes there is. I am writing in the place of Rantzilla, with her approval. I do not own Hetalia nor the idea for this fic. I'm just finishing it! This chapter was written by Rantzilla, and I'm just posting it to let you know that the rest will be a continuation of this story. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Running up That Hill<strong>

"_...your bad romance. I want your love and I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance! Oh wu oh wu oh~"_

Alfred groaned blearily into his pillow, casting an arm to the side and searching blindly for the 'Sleep' button on his annoyingly loud alarm clock.

"_Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah~ Roma~ Roma-ma~"_

He felt the cold plastic of the alarm clock graze his pinky finger, and slammed his fist down on the snooze button as hard as he could- right as Lady Gaga finished spewing her random imaginary words. Alfred laid there silently for a few moments, contemplating skipping work today, before he groaned once more and pushed himself up onto his knees. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to rub the sleep out of them, before he stood up on the bed and jumped onto the floor, making the dresser and the nightstand shake.

Alfred yawned, stretched, and scratched his buttox, making a beeline for the bathroom. However, as he passed the staircase, he caught a whiff of something delicious, and quickly changed direction. He trotted down the stairwell in his boxers and socks, jumping off the last two steps before heading toward the swinging kitchen door, behind which he could hear a string of accented curses being shot off randomly.

"Good morning!" he called, as he burst through the swinging door.

"You bloody fool!" reprimanded a blonde-haired Briton. "What have I told you about jumping off the bed in the morning?"

Alfred sat himself down in a chair around the dining room table, giving his husband an irritatingly cheeky grin, and said, "what? You actually deserved it that time! You changed the radio station! And do you _still _get scared by that?"

"Of course you bloody scared me! You know how much I hate loud noises in a quiet morning!" ranted the irate blonde, turning his back on Alfred to pick up a steaming mug of coffee. "For goodness sakes, you probably woke Peter up again!"

As if on cue, an equally blonde boy burst through the kitchen door, much like his father, and skipped over to plop down in a chair next to his father.

"What's for breakfast, mom?" he queried perkily, scooting his chair over enough so that he could peak at the newspaper his dad was reading.

"Pancakes, eggs, and bacon," said 'mom,' with a bit of an edge, shooting an angry glare at Alfred.

"I'll just take-"

"The eggs and bacon, I know," he interrupted Alfred, shoving the mug in front of his face and nearly spilling it on the lawyer's lap.

"Sheesh, what's wrong with mom?" whispered Peter to his father. Alfred shook his head sadly, and glanced at Peter.

"That time of the month, you know?" he answered- Peter nodded solemnly.

"I can _hear _you two, you know," seethed the Brit savagely, slamming the microwave shut and busying himself with making up the plates.

Alfred rolled his eyes at Peter, who smiled and continued reading the paper. Soon after, a frown creased his child-like features.

"So that psycho is still on the lose, huh?"

"Looks like it," Alfred intoned quietly, sipping his coffee.

"Dad, do you think the police will catch him soon? Before he can hurt anyone else?" queried Peter, looking up at his dead inquiringly.

Alfred sniffed. "Probably, his murders are pretty sloppy from what I've heard. They've already got a picture and everything. It won't be long."

Peter sighed, and they relapsed into silence.

Both jumped when two plates were slammed down in front of them.

"Breakfast." The Briton said stiffly. "And don't talk to Peter about stuff like that, he's only eight, for pity's sake!"

Peter snorted. "You should hear what they talk about in school."

The older blonde frowned, the same way Peter had earlier, and sat down across from the pair with a plate of his own and a cup of tea. "Yes, what _do _they talk about?"

His son shrugged and began to work on his breakfast before it got the chance to run away again. "Mostly about this serial killer, actually."

"Speaking of, you should be extra careful walking to school from now on," the Brit said, picking up the remote. "In fact, I'll start driving you."

Peter groaned as his mom flipped on the television. Being taken to school by a parent at his age was so embarrassing, especially when that parent fussed over his child as much as his mom, Arthur, did. And the pat on the back he received from his father with a grunt of 'just go with it, son' wasn't helpful in the least.

Arthur switched to the news station, where a pretty reporter was once again, warning everyone to be extra cautious until the serial killer was caught.

"Mom, can't I watch cartoons? This is on _every morning_!" Peter whined.

"No! Now pay attention, if you see that guy, what do you do?"

"Run to the nearest safe location, hide, and phone the police," Peter stated boredly, with a roll of his eyes.

"Good," nodded Arthur.

Alfred, meanwhile, was engrossed in an article on the recent Yankees game, only catching snippets of what the woman on the screen was saying.

"...kills in..."

"...sneaks..."

Alfred set down his mug and started munching on a piece of burnt bacon.

"...no one has..."

"...hour..."

Out of nowhere, Arthur gasped loudly.

"Alfred, look at the time!"

"Huh?" Alfred looked up and at the clock on the oven, before dropping the newspaper and propelling himself out of his seat as fast as he could.

"SHIT SHIT SHIT!" he bellowed as he launched up the steps two at a time.

"Don't use that language with Peter in the house!" Arthur screamed after him. Peter took this chance to take the remote and turn on Spongebob.

Seven minutes later, Alfred tore down the hall at breakneck speed, sliding down the banister by the stairs to save time- receiving a disapproving look from Arthur, who was standing at the base of the stairs with his briefcase.

Alfred snatched said briefcase from Arthur and quickly pecked him on the cheek, shoving his feet in brown work shoes.

"Have a good day and please be careful! That psycho is out there!" Arthur warned as he watched Alfred grab his suit jacket and hop on one foot trying to get his foot completely in the shoe.

The Brit rolled his eyes, seeing the awful state of Alfred's tie, it was barely straight enough to be considered business-appropriate. "Here, let me fix that," he said stepping forward and reaching for the tie.

Alfred slapped his hands away hurriedly, and threw the door open, "no time for that, I'll fix it in the car! See ya at dinner, Arty!"

Alfred slammed the door, and Arthur glared at it.

"Yeah, love you, too." He grumbled, tightening his pink apron and stalking back to the kitchen.

Alfred was sprinting toward the Red Pontiac parked by the curb in front of his house. He set down his briefcase once he reached it, and fumbled with his keys to get the passenger side door open. Once that was accomplished, he threw his briefcase inside, manually unlocked the driver door, and slammed the passenger door shut again, before sliding across the hood of the car and throwing the other door open. Alfred shut the door behind him, and all but shoved the key into the ignition.

He put the car into reverse, backed up a bit, put it in drive and pressed down on the gas pedal so hard that the inevitable lurch almost caused an accident between he and another car. The driver could be seen flipping him off in the rear view mirror, but Alfred could care less- stopping at a red light.

He was late- and the New York traffic hour was not helping him at all. He squeezed the wheel roughly in frustration, as he waited for the light to turn green. He was still about 12 blocks away from work, and at this rate it would take him half an hour to get to the parking lot in front of his building.

Alfred glanced at the time, then looked straight back at the red light. He had about twenty-five minutes before he had to get to the meeting- an extremely important meeting that would quite possibly change his career forever.

Yellow. He revved up his engine.

Green. Alfred floored it and swerved between lanes, passing and cutting off anyone in his way. Sadly, he only managed 2 blocks this way before the next red light.

_'It's gonna be a looong morning,'_ Alfred thought bitterly, beating his head repeatedly against the steering wheel.

Alfred pushed his way into an over-crowded elevator, making sure the 15th floor was already lit. The doors slid shut, and the elevator rose shakily toward the first lit floor- the 2nd. After each stop, Alfred checked his watch. Admittedly, he had made good time getting here. But now, he only had about three minutes before that meeting. And they were only on the 6th floor.

He tapped his foot on the floor in irritation, shocked that he even _had _room to tap with this many people inside.

The lawyer's eye twitched just as the doors were opening on the 7th floor- his watch was beeping, meaning he was late.

He elbowed people out of the way, trying to get to the doors before they closed again- earning quite a few angry curse words from those people. Once Alfred had made it into the hallway, he took off toward the nearest door for the staircases.

It could be said that the lawyer was very much in shape, so in about six minutes he was up to the 15th floor- diving for the door to the conference room. He threw it open harshly once he got a hold of the sleek door handle- earning quite a few looks of disdain from the conference attendees. Alfred smiled easily at them, still panting slightly from the run, and took a seat next to a cheerful Asian woman near the end of the table.

All eyes were on him- and the growing awkwardness of his arrival caused Alfred to squirm a little in his hard seat.

"Sorry I'm late," Alfred said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

The man at the head of the table- a sleek blonde man with gelled hair and piercing blue eyes- merely grunted in acknowledgment, and looked back down at the papers before him, attempting to find the place where he'd left off.

Alfred, meanwhile, tried to fix his appearance, seeing as he was still slightly disheveled from the run. After fiddling with his tie for a few seconds, the woman next to him took pity and reached over quickly to straighten his tie and fix his collar. She sat back in her seat and winked at him with a kindly smile- which he returned gratefully- just as the blonde man at the end of the table began to speak. From what his secretary had told him yesterday, Alfred knew his name was Ludwig.

"We'll have to pick up the pace a bit because of the delay, so please bear with me..." started Ludwig with a thick German accent.

Quite a few glares were sent Alfred's way at the mention of the delay, but he ignored them, and steeled himself for the presentation he was to give to the intimidating German man at the head of the table.

_'It's going to be a looooong meeting,' _Alfred thought bitterly, wishing he had something to bang his head against.

Alfred sighed happily as he finally left the conference room two long hours later, he was very pleased with the reaction from his presentation- and Ludwig had even taken time to shake his hand at the end.

All in all- the American was ready to celebrate. Just as he was about to head toward the elevators, he saw the kind Asian woman at the snack machine, staring at its contents in concentration- Alfred made his way over to her.

"Thanks for earlier," he said happily, and she jumped a little at his sudden appearance. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you!"

"No, no it's quite alright," she said, waving a dismissive hand and smiling. "And it's no problem, you must have been nervous- we've all had to do presentations before, and I know how you felt. By the way, your presentation was _excellent_!"

"Oh!" Alfred said, flattered by the compliment. "Thank you!" It was then he noticed that she still hadn't decided what to get, and without a second thought, he asked, "why don't you and I go out for lunch? I was just about to go celebrate anyway, and it's better to celebrate with a friend."

Her smile broadened, and she nodded as she said, "I'd love to!"

"Great! Meet me at Panera bread? I have to go tell my secretary that I'm going out to lunch."

"Oh you take your time. As you can see, I'm a bit slow at ordering anyway," she gestured to the machine beside her, chuckling.

Alfred laughed as well, liking this woman already and wondering why he hadn't seen her around before. He turned his back on her, still smiling, and waved over his shoulder as he called, "see you there!"

He was still beaming cheerfully as he made his way to his secretary's desk near his office. He could see she was taking a call at the moment, and she looked abnormally serious compared to her usual demeanor.

"Elizaveta," he whispered as he got there, she looked at him with wide eyes- putting a finger to her lips, obviously saying that he should be quiet. He shook his head, glancing at the clock on the wall behind him, indicating he had no time. "I'm going out to lunch now, take messages from the important callers as always."

She was shaking her head frantically at him, before she spoke in the receiver. "Yes, yes I have him right here. I think it's better if you'd talk to him about this."

It was Alfred's turn to shake his head, pushing away the receiver she offered him and striding toward the exit. "I said, take a message!"

"Alfred, no! It's important!" Alfred ignored her calls, though they were notably frantic, it had already been five minutes since he'd talked to the pretty Asian woman. "It's the police!"

Alfred halted, frowned, and turned on his heel. He took the phone out of Elizaveta's hands, she was standing now and looked like she was about to cry- and once the phone had left her hands, she sunk into her office chair and put her head in her arms.

"Yes, what is it? And could you make it quick, I have an appointme-"

"Sir," the police man cut him off. Alfred fell silent because of the seriousness of his tone. "We got a call earlier from someone walking past your house walking their dog, they reported gas leaking from open windows. When we came to investigate, we found out that this was done by smoke grenades."

Alfred stood up a little straighter, "and my family? Where are they?"

"Well, sir, we couldn't find them. The car is still here, but your family is nowhere in the building."

"Shouldn't you be searching for them then?" screamed Alfred angrily, his hands shaking.

"We have every available police officer doing just that, sir. But we need to bring you to the police station for questioning."

"Questio-? MY FAMILY IS OUT THERE YOU DAMNED OFFICER!"

"I know, sir! But we need to find out as much as we can about your family and why someone would choose to abduct your famil-"

"ABDUCT? YOU JUST SAID THEY WEREN'T THERE YOU SAID NOTHING ABOUT ABDUCTION!" Alfred vaguely heard muffled cries from the woman below him, but was too angry to care.

"Sir, haven't you been watching the news?" asked the officer tentatively after a brief silence. "The smoke grenades most likely mean that the serial killer we've been dealing with has taken them. I'm sorry but the thing you could do to help them the most right now is go the police sta-"

Alfred had long since tuned out- remembering suddenly the words of the reporter from this morning. His jaw was slack, and he heard nothing but white noise. He slid to the ground, as his knees shook with the effort of holding his weight up, and he dropped the off-white standard office phone- not even hearing the sound it made when it hit the cold floor.

The only noises he was aware of was the sobbing of the woman beside him, his own ragged breathing, and the constant ticking of the clock on the wall.

But alone in his head, he only heard the report from this morning reverberating constantly, saying over and over...

"_The suspect kills in twos, after he sneaks into their houses and knocks them out with smoke grenades. You should also be aware and conscious of the fact- no one has lived past the 24th hour."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Aha! I finished the chapter! Woo for the first chapter of mine in this story! Enjoy!**

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><p>Arthur sighed as he watched the red Pontiac peel away from the curb, nearly hitting another car. The silver-haired driver flipped off Alfred and began screaming curses at him, both in English and what sounded like German. Even as the car disappeared from sight, Arthur could still hear the strings of curses coming from the irritated driver.<p>

As he had been walking back to the kitchen, his husband's antics had caught his eye from the window. He shook his head and continued on to the kitchen, where he reprimanded Peter for changing the channel.

"But why does it matter? That lady says the same thing every day!" whined Peter as his 'mom' turned the channel back to the news.

"They might announce some new information on that killer! Besides, those cartoons aren't good for you! You might get bad ideas or something!" said Arthur, cleaning up Alfred's half-eaten breakfast.

Peter just sighed and stuffed some pancakes into his mouth, listening to the news. " The latest police reports show that at least eight people have been killed. The bodies were nearly completely destroyed, and were almost unrecognizable, but as of now, these are the identifications of the bodies," reported the anchorwoman, pausing to shuffle some papers. " Vash Zwingli and his sister Erika Vogel, Francis Bonnefoy and Mathew Williams, Feliks Łukasiewicz and Toris Laurinaitis and Wang Jia Long and his sister Xiao Mei." There was a picture of each person as their name was stated, all of them smiling at the camera.

"See? They don't have any news on that psycho," complained Peter, getting up to put his dish in the dishwasher.

Just as Arthur turned around to reply, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," said Arthur, taking off his pink apron.

When he opened the door, there was a girl standing there with a box in hand. She had long platinum blond hair and dark blue eyes and a white ribbon for a headband. She was wearing the uniform of some delivery company.

"Hello," said Peter, pushing Arthur aside so he could see who was at the door.

"I have a package for a," she paused, looking at a clipboard. "Mr. Arthur Kirkland-Jones. But it's addressed to a Mr. Peter Jones as well."

"That would be me," said Arthur, taking the package from the woman.

"If you could just sign here?" she said, holding out her clipboard to Arthur.

"Sure," replied Arthur, awkwardly taking the clipboard and pen from the woman, still holding the package. When he was done he handed the clipboard back to the woman.

"You should sign as well," the woman said, looking at Peter's pouting face.

"Cool!" he exclaimed as he was offered the clipboard and pen. He scribbled his name and then gave the clipboard back to the woman.

"Thank you. Also, the person who sent this said to open it as soon as possible," said the woman, retreating to a large delivery truck.

"Thanks!" called Peter, waving cheerily at the woman.

Arthur closed the door and brought the box into the kitchen. He set it down on the table and went in search of a knife to open the box with. Peter jumped up and down excitedly, wanting to see what was inside of the box.

Both Arthur and Peter ignored the television as the news anchor announced that they would be showing the picture of the killer one last time before the show ended. A picture came onto the screen as Arthur finally found a knife and approached the box with it.

Arthur took the knife and carefully cut all of the tape away from the box. Peter excitedly opened the box.

It exploded.

The room was full of smoke, and both Peter and Arthur were coughing, their eyes tearing up.

Peter fell to the ground first, twitching and coughing. Soon he was completely still.

Arthur crashed to the ground right after his son. As he coughed, he looked up at the television screen. The picture of the killer was still up. Through his streaming eyes, he looked closely at the picture.

It was grainy, obviously taken from a cell phone. The man in the picture was wearing a long tan trench coat, darker brown pants, a white scarf, black gloves and boots. A tan hat that looked as though it belonged to a raking officer of the Soviet Union mostly covered his face. A small piece of hair wasn't covered by the hat.

It was platinum blond.

Arthur looked closely, and as he was blacking out, he saw some of the man's eye.

It was dark blue.

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><p>Alfred was still slumped on the floor when the small Asian woman came looking for him. His eyes were clouded over with tears, and he just sat there silently, in shock.<p>

"What happened?" asked the woman.

Alfred's breath hitched as he thought about what had happened again. He couldn't say it. He would _not _reiterate the news. He could still hardly believe it.

"Mr. Jones?" asked the woman, concerned about her new friend.

Elizaveta picked up her head from her arms and wiped away the tears staining her cheeks, even though they were instantly replaced by new ones. She took a deep breath and said, "The police called. They told him that his family was taken. There was evidence that it was the Midnight Killer who took them."

The Asian woman gasped, instantly looking sorry for Alfred. "I'll go ask Ludwig if he can go home," she said, starting off towards a door down the hallway. She turned around and said, "Excuse me, but I forgot to introduce myself. I am Sakura Honda."

She disappeared into the meeting room and the two waiting in the hall listened to the indistinct murmurs that came from the door. When she reappeared, she nodded.

This sent Alfred flying down the hall and to the stairwell. He raced down all fifteen flights of stairs and was out in his car in under five minutes. He pulled out of his parking spot without checking behind him first and there was a sharp 'thud'.

Alfred leapt out of the car and raced around to the back to see who or what he hit. It happened to be the driver of the car he had nearly crashed into this morning.

"Ow ow ow ow ow. Shit man! Your driving sucks!" said the albino man as he slowly stood up.

"Sorry dude. I just need to get home as fast as possible," replied Alfred, looking rather uncomfortable.

"What, you just hit someone with your car and say, 'oh sorry, I have to go' and leave? That's a load of shit! The awesome me, Gilbert Beilschmidt, does not take this kind of crap!" he yelled.

"Get out of my face! I need to get home!" Alfred yelled back, trying to get back into the driver's seat.

"No way! The awesome me will not leave until I receive compensation!" declared Gilbert, planting himself in front of Alfred.

"For Christ's sake man, move! My family was freaking abducted!" Alfred practically screamed at Gilbert.

"You nearly f-" Gilbert started, but was stopped when Elizaveta slammed his head with a frying pan.

Alfred stood there for a moment, staring as his secretary pulled the unconscious albino out of the way. "Go!" Elizaveta said, still dragging Gilbert away.

Alfred looked as though he was going to protest, but Elizaveta held up her frying pan, threatening to hit him if he didn't leave.

"Thanks!" yelled Alfred as he sped out of the parking lot, cutting off some cars and nearly crashing into a telephone pole.

Alfred had finally reached his home. It had only taken him fifteen minutes, what with him speeding and breaking nearly every driving law ever made. What he saw was a blockade of police cars and his home cordoned off with yellow caution tape.

He quickly ducked under the tape and made his way towards the front door. None of the officers noticed, they were all busy consulting one another on some matter.

Inside the house everything seemed normal. But the lack of movement and noise made it seem dark and oppressing, even though it was midday. As Alfred looked around, any every day object seemed to evoke some sort of memory. A pink apron that Arthur would always wear. Alfred would always tease him about it. A single shoe. Alfred always told Peter to keep those shoes together. A picture-less frame. Alfred remembered the time they went out to get a family photo, it had been a total disaster, so they just left it empty.

"Hey, you! This is a crime scene! Only law enforcement officers can-"

"You should be looking for them," Alfred said, cutting off the officer mid-speech.

"Wha-?" the officer was saved from having to respond by the arrival of his superior. "Officer Bondevik!"

The officer was had silver hair and violet eyes. He also looked as though he had just gotten out of bed.

"Who're you?" asked the man, completely ignoring the other officer.

"Alfred F. Jones," replied Alfred, still somewhat shaky from the news of his family's disappearance.

"A pleasure," said a different voice, this one colder and more distant. This was the same voice as on the telephone.

"Inspector Bondevik!" exclaimed the forgotten police officer.

This man had light blond hair and dull blue eyes. Alfred looked into them but couldn't see _anything._

"Wait, why do the have the same last names?" asked Alfred, confused.

"They're brothers! The best duo in the whole region. The Bondevik Brothers!" replied the man excitedly, though he stopped speaking when both of the brothers' cold eyes were turned on him.

"I am Lukas Bondevik. The elder brother," said the blue-eyed man, gazing intently at Alfred.

"I'm Emil Bondevik, the younger brother," said the officer, looking at Alfred with sympathy.

"Nice to meet you. Not to be rude, but do you know where my family is?" asked Alfred, looking at the brothers expectantly.

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><p>When Arthur regained consciousness, he was sitting in a small, metal room; his arms and legs were bound with rope. As he exhaled out, he noticed that his breath clouded in the air. He was cold.<p>

"You jerk! I thought you had left me!" cried Peter from somewhere behind him.

"It's alright, love. We'll be alright," said Arthur on reflex, even though he was pretty sure they would die.

"Where's Dad?" asked Peter, his voice shaking.

"I'm not sure love. But I know he'll come and save us," replied Arthur, while he was silently thinking, '_Alfred, where are you? Will you get here in time?'_

Arthur could hear his son's sniffling and knew he was crying.

"I don't want to die," cried Peter, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

"We're not going to die. Not here!" replied Arthur savagely. He wouldn't stand for this. There was no way he would let his little eight-year-old die.

"B-but the lady on the n-news s-said that no one e-ever lived past the t-twenty-fourth hour," said Peter, now sobbing.

Just as Arthur was about to reply, the door was slammed open. A man dressed in a tan trench coat, darker pants, a white scarf and black gloves and boots as well as a Soviet-looking hat stood in the doorway.

It was the Midnight Killer.

"Time to begin, da?"

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><p><strong>Mwahahaha! Cliffhanger! Sorry, but I just HAD to. And yes, the Asian woman was genderbent Japan. Sorry if I killed off any of your favorite characters. There HAD to be victims. And there will be more! But I'm not telling who.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Woo! Another chapter! Flashback time!**

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><p>"Big brother!" called a young girl, about fourteen years old as she ran up to two slightly older people.<p>

"What is it, Natalia?" asked a tall boy. He had beige-blond hair, a large nose and violet eyes.

"I want to walk next to you, Ivan! Not Katyusha!" cried the girl, her long platinum blond hair covering her dark blue eyes even with a white ribbon as a headband.

"You can both walk next to me, da?" said Ivan, gesturing at the empty space beside him.

Natalia wiped off her eyes and fell in step with her two siblings. Her breath frosted in the cold air, but she was used to the cold.

"I would like to go to America one day," said Katyusha out of the blue.

"Da, it would be nice to go someplace new," agreed Ivan, nodding.

Suddenly he stopped short, gazing sadly at two small children playing happily in the snow.

"What's wrong big brother?" asked Natalia, concerned for Ivan.

"It just makes me sad when I see two people happy and having fun together," replied Ivan, walking again.

For the next few moments, the three were silent; the only sound the crunching of snow underfoot. Their breath frosted in the cold air; smoky clouds billowing in front of them.

"Look big brother! A sunflower in the middle of winter!" exclaimed Natalia, trotting over to the edge of the sidewalk, where a small sunflower was struggling against the cold. Both Ivan and Katyusha stopped, curious.

Just as Natalia turned around with the sunflower in hand, a car swerved, out of control towards her two siblings.

"Look out!" screeched Natalia as the car swerved towards them.

But the warning was too late. Both Ivan and Katyusha were thrown through the air and slammed into the wall of an empty building.

The sunflower fell into the snow.

"BIG BROTHER! BIG SISTER!" screamed Natalia as she raced over to where her siblings were.

She shook Katyusha, hoping to get her to open her eyes. "Katyusha, Katyusha! Wake up, Katyusha!" sobbed Natalia, hovering over her sister.

A small trickle of blood ran down her forehead.

"No. No, no, NO!" screamed Natalia as she stumbled away from the corpse.

She turned around and stumbled over to where Ivan was. "Ivan . . ." whispered Natalia, afraid that her brother was already gone.

At the sound of his sister's voice, Ivan's eyes flickered open. "N-natalia . . ." whispered Ivan, his violet eyes finding Natalia's blue ones.

"Big brother, don't speak! Save your energy!" cried Natalia, gripping one of Ivan's hands.

"S-sun . . ." Ivan managed. He was struggling to say something else, but nothing came out.

"Here," said Natalia, handing Ivan the sunflower that she had just raced back to get.

" . . . h-happy . . . America . . ." said Ivan, his eyes drifting back to the two small children playing in the snow.

"Big brother!" cried Natalia, holding onto her brother with all of her strength. "Don't leave me!"

"N-nyet . . . not . . ." said Ivan, but the rest of the words trailing off. He stilled, his violet eyes gazing up at the sunless sky, unblinking.

"BIG BROTHER!" screamed Natalia, sobbing into her brother's corpse.

The sound of sirens soon came to her ears, and she staggered to her feet. She needed to get to America. That was what Big brother had wanted. Natalia reached down and took the scarf from her brother's neck.

"Big brother, you'll live on within me, da?" said Natalia, wrapping the scarf around her own neck.

Natalia raced home and burst through the door. She grabbed one duffel bag and shoved everything into it. As she passed the door to her brother's room, she went inside and took the spare set of clothes that was on the bed.

Out into the darkening night ran a lone figure, away from the tragedy that had just struck. Like a thief Natalia stole between houses and in alleyways until she reached the port.

Without hesitating, she raced up onto the closest ship.

It had been several years since Natalia had ran away from her homeland. She had finally made her way over to the East Coast. New York, to be exact.

She had worked many different jobs over the years, but now she was a landscape artist. The job paid well, and she made enough to live comfortably. But she never forgot.

Every night she dreamed about that awful day so many years ago. She remembered her big brother dying in her arms. She kept her brother alive inside herself though. They were one in the same, or so she believed.

Natalia watched those around her very closely. Whenever she saw two people together, she remembered the unhappiness it had caused her brother.

She decided it was time to make her brother happy once again. She began planning and watching, looking for a target. The first to be killed were some blond siblings. They had been much too happy together.

How Natalia had enjoyed torturing them, making one watch while the other was in pain, unable to do anything. How it made her happy when the screams of pain told her they were no longer happy together. How it would have made her brother happy to see that he no longer had to be unhappy. How screams of pain turned into silence at the last stroke of midnight.

After that first killing she had kept on going. Eight were dead now, but that wasn't nearly enough to make her brother happy. Not even close.

* * *

><p>Natalia stood outside of the door and listened. She was dressed in her big brother's clothes. She missed him so much.<p>

"You jerk! I though you had left me!" said one voice, upset.

"It's alright, love. We'll be all right," replied a different voice, though it seemed bleak and hopeless to Natalia despite the encouraging words.

"Where's Dad?" asked the first voice, his voice shaking.

"I'm not sure love. But I know he'll come and save us," replied the other voice.

There was a pause and some sniffling; one of them was crying.

"I don't want to die," cried the first person, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

"We're not going to die. Not here!" replied the other person savagely, as if someone had activated a mother's protective instinct on the man.

"B-but the lady on the n-news s-said that no one e-ever lived past the t-twenty-fourth hour," sobbed the first voice.

Natalia slammed the door open.

"Time to begin, da?" said Natalia, though inside she was thinking, _'Big brother, do I kill them? There are three, just like it was back then. Three . . . with one left behind . . .'_

* * *

><p>Alfred sighed. He had been sitting in the police station for hours, being questioned thoroughly by the two brothers. Apparently, when they had been called, his family had already been gone for over an hour. The only thing they had found as evidence was a small bit of lead pipe, chipped off of something.<p>

The piece of metal was in forensics now, being scanned for any trace of the killer. Every now and then a police officer would pass by and shoot him a sad look. They had all gone through this routine before.

Inspector Bondevik walked up to him saying, "Mr. Jones, please come with me. We have some information, though it's not much."

Alfred got up without saying a word and followed the man into a small room filled with science equipment.

Officer Bondevik looked up from a small computer screen as his brother walked in with Alfred.

"Inspector, Officer, what did you find out about my family?" asked Alfred, still feeling numb.

"We've traced the origin of the lead, and found that it was manufactured in Russia, about ten years ago," said Officer Bondevik, turning back to the screen.

"What does that have to-"

"Then we tracked the metal using trace elements found in certain areas of any given place," said Inspector Bondevik, cutting off Alfred mid-speech.

"Well where does it come from then?" asked Alfred, getting impatient.

The two brothers looked at each other, sharing something that Alfred couldn't really pick up on. They remained silent.

"Inspector? Off-"

"Call me Emil," said Officer Bondevik, cutting Alfred off.

"Well then, Inspector, _Emil,_" said Alfred, putting strain on the officer's name. "_Where. Is. My. Family?"_

Both of the other men looked surprised at Alfred's vicious sounding demand.

"Well, the trace minerals pinpoint the location to here," said Emil, pointing at a map on the computer screen.

Alfred looked at where the officer was pointing and blanched. "What? B-but that's-"

"Ground Zero," said the Inspector, finishing Alfred's sentence for him.

"But how? There's nothing there! Not after-"

"Underground. That's the only explanation," said Emil, cutting Alfred off.

"So what are we still doing here? Shouldn't we be on our way?" asked Alfred, furious.

"We don't know where the entrance is. There's also a possibility that it's heavily guarded. We don't want to kill everyone here, now do we?" replied the Inspector coldly.

"Well . . . there's always-"

"No! We swore that we'd never go back to him! You know how he is!" snapped the Inspector, cutting his brother off.

"What is it? If it could help, then tell me!" said Alfred looking alternately between the two brothers, wondering what on Earth they could possibly be so worked up over.

"We might be able to find out the entrance location via a . . . contact," said Emil hesitantly.

"Then by all means find out!" yelled Alfred.

"You don't understand. The man's a double-crossing rat. He'll do anything for the right pay," snarled the Inspector, disgusted.

"JUST CALL HIM!" screamed Alfred, furious at both brothers.

Emil looked nervously at his brother as if asking permission.

"Fine. Call him. I just don't want to talk to the guy," said Inspector Bondevik, turning his back on the other men.

Emil pulled out his cell phone and hesitantly dialed a number. "Andersen Densen there?" asked Emil, waiting for an answer. "No, tell him he needs to answer this call," answered Emil in response to the other person's question. "No, no, not about _that,_" said the officer quickly. "No, tell him . . . ah, what was it? Oh! 'It's springtime and I'm being invaded by unicorn fluff and glitter bugs,'" said Emil awkwardly after pausing to listen to the person on the other end of the phone, who seemed to be paranoid.

"What is he _talking _about?" asked Alfred, bewildered.

The Inspector just shook his head, indicating that it would be better to just not ask.

Emil sighed, "_Finally!_ Densen, I need to call in a favor." He waited as a loud voice buzzed from the phone. "No, remember last time? I paid for _all _of your drinks," replied the officer, somewhat annoyed. "You can't threaten me with your axe over the _phone!" _Emil shouted indignantly. "I need a location. To a secret base," said Emil, calmer now. "Where? Well it's only under Ground Zero!" laughed the officer, venom lying beneath the mirth.

* * *

><p>"You," breathed Arthur, pulling himself in front of Peter.<p>

The killer tilted his head and said, "Nyet, I am not who they think I am."

"What do you mean?" asked Arthur over a sobbing Peter, though already suspecting whom it was.

In response, the killer just took off the soviet hat. A curtain of platinum blond hair fell down. A pair of dark blue eyes stared at Arthur.

"I am Natalia Arlovskaya," said Natalia, watching Arthur.

"You jerk! It doesn't matter who you are! You'll still be a jerk!" said Peter, who had stopped crying.

"Peter, stop that," commanded Arthur, fear in his voice.

"But mom, _why?_" whined Peter, struggling to turn around and look at Natalia.

"He fears for you, that is why," said Natalia, speaking before Arthur had the chance to.

"Why would he be _more _afraid for me?" asked Peter, confused.

"Because of what she is," said Arthur coldly. "Years ago, she arranged for the death of her two siblings, then fled to America when she feared capture."

* * *

><p><strong>For those of you who don't know, Andersen Densen=Denmark. And Lukas Bondevik=Norway and Emil Bondevik=Iceland. Please review!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Aarrgghh. Sorry I dropped off of the face of the Earth, if anyone cares. It was just stuff like writers block, junior olympics, procrastination, you know. The usual kind of thing. But I'm back! Now I'm going to try and update once every week, but I'm not sure if that'll happen. I'm going to try though. Anyways, here's the next chapter! (Oh, and if you get confused with the names they're at the bottom).**

* * *

><p>A pair of sharp eyes glinted in the darkness, illuminated only by the harsh glow of the monitor. A small smirk appeared on the lips of a man who sat in front of the screen.<p>

"Sir?" asked a voice from the darkness, wondering what had happened.

"Roderich, what do you want, aru?" replied the man in the chair.

"If you don't mind my asking, but what has happened with the plan?" asked Roderich from the shadows.

"Our little flower has found out that we framed her for her siblings' deaths, aru," said the man, rising from his seat.

"Yao," said a third voice, sharply. "This puts the whole operation in danger. Get rid of them now!"

"Wang. Jia. Long," said Yao, slowly saying the name of the third voice. "What fun would the game be, if there were no pawns?"

"Sir-"

"Yao! The Finn just died and now the Swede has gone mad!" screeched another voice, running from somewhere deeper in the building.

"Yong Soo! Jia Long! Go get rid of him before he messes anything up!" ordered Yao sharply. The two ran off into the shadows to dispose of the now useless Swede.

"Sir, if the girl knows we framed her, won't she be suspicious of an outer group having motives for all of this?" inquired a feminine voice.

"Xiao Mei, as I told your brother, every game needs pieces to move and dispose of," replied Yao.

"But-"

"How will we ever avenge the death of Sakura unless we make her killers suffer like we did?" snapped Yao, rising from his seat.

"Come. It is time we observed the movements the others," intervened Roderich, trying to keep a full-blown argument from happening.

"Fine. We need to see how those killers are doing. Those damned Bondeviks."

* * *

><p>Natalia gasped and fell to her knees, her lead knife clattering to the floor beside her. "Big brother, big brother. I'm all alone, big brother. You're gone now. . . I'm so lonely big brother," Natalia was sobbing on the floor, rocking back and forth.<p>

"Hey mom, she doesn't seem like she would've wanted to kill her brother," said Peter, watching Natalia.

But Arthur was distracted by the sudden appearance of another being. He was dressed identically to Natalia, and when Arthur concentrated on him, he could see _through_ him.

"_She did not kill me or Katyusha. That other organization did, da?"_ said the man.

"Who are you?" demanded Arthur, watching the man closely.

"_Oh, he can see me! That is good, da? I am Ivan Braginsky. Natalia's older brother," _replied Ivan.

Natalia was too busy sobbing on the floor to notice Arthur talking to something she couldn't see and Peter was just spacing out like he usually did when he couldn't find anything else to do.

"What do you mean by 'that other organization'?" asked Arthur.

"_The group of people that killed my older sister and myself. I think they're after something else, though," _said Ivan, watching his sister on the floor.

"Big brother, big brother. I would never hurt big brother. I loved him!" sobbed Natalia.

"Do you know who they are or what they want?" asked Arthur, watching Ivan closely.

"_Da. I watched them for a while after my death. They are known as the Crimson Dragons. A large crime group mostly in Asia, da?" _replied Ivan.

"Do you know what they want? It seems like they were just using your sister as a cover for something," said Arthur, pondering what it could be.

"_They believe that their sister was killed by a pair of brothers and they want revenge. Though I do not know the brothers' names, da?" _said Ivan.

"Did those brothers actually do anything?" Arthur said, beginning to feel as if this was much bigger than a simple murder.

"_Nyet. I watched them as well. It seems as though a greater force is at work here, da?"_ replied Ivan simply.

"I see. . ." said Arthur. His mind began to race as he though about who could have done something like this. A plan with this many layers, so much happening at once. It had to be a huge organization. But where was the motivation in all of this?

"Who are you talking to?" asked Peter, watching his 'mom'.

Arthur blanched. There was no way his son would believe him if he said he was speaking to a ghost. He would think he was going mad.

Natalia looked up for a moment, saying, "Big brother, you always seemed so sad big brother. I wanted to make you happy. Big brother, big brother, I've been so lonely!"

"Who's that guy?" asked Peter, staring straight at Ivan.

"_Oh, so this one can see me too?" _asked Ivan, clearly amused.

"You! Whom are you speaking to?" asked Natalia, her eyes still full of tears.

"Erm. . . well. . . I am speaking to Ivan, you're elder brother," replied Arthur.

"_Tell her I only want for her to be happy, da?" _said Ivan, a shadow crossing over his childlike face.

"Big brother! Why did you have to leave me big brother?" sobbed Natalia, tears fresh in her eyes.

"Umm. . . well, Ivan says to tell you 'I only want for you to be happy'. So I believe that this is not really necessary anymore," said Arthur, nodding at the ropes binding himself and Peter.

Natalia just nodded and shakily cut their bonds with the lead knife.

"_Tell my sister that if she really wishes for me to be at peace is for her to be happy, da? Also tell her that this killing, that it was not necessary. Seeing those people together did not make me sad, it merely made me want to live and to fight even more for a better life," _said Ivan, watching his sister closely.

"Ms. Arlovskaya, your brother wishes me to tell you 'If you really want me to be at peace, then be happy. Also that the killing was not necessary and that seeing those people together did not make me sad, merely made me want to live and fight even more for a better life'," said Arthur, not quite sure what to make of his situation as he sat rubbing his wrists where the ropes had previously been.

Natalia wiped off her eyes and said, "Big brother, where are you? I wish I could see you once more, big brother. I'm so sorry! I've been trying to make you happy all theses years big brother, but I was doing the wrong thing! I'm sorry!" She burst into tears once again.

"_Natalia. . . You do not need to be sorry, da? Just help fix this mess," _said Ivan with a sad smile as he watched his little sister cry her heart out.

"Big brother?" asked Natalia, her eyes huge. She looked around frantically, searching for the source of the voice.

"_Natalia, help fix this mess, da?"_ repeated Ivan.

"D-da," replied Natalia, trembling.

* * *

><p>"Where is he?" asked Alfred impatiently, pacing back and forth on the cold stone tiles that covered the main lobby of the Empire State building.<p>

"Most likely drunk, lost or simply late," replied Inspector Bondevik coldly.

"And why did we have to meet him here? Why not closer to where my family is?" demanded Alfred angrily.

"He would agree to meet us in no other place but here. We didn't have much of a choice," replied Emil with an apologetic smile.

Alfred sighed and continued pacing. He hated this. Waiting, wondering what was happening to his family. The pity in Emil's eyes when he thought he wasn't looking.

The revolving door shuddered as a man stumbled through it and fell on his face as soon as he entered the lobby. He immediately jumped up and walked over to the three men waiting near the front desk.

His hair was a dirty blond, and it was wildly sticking up all over his head. His blue eyes sparkled madly as his face lit up with a huge grin that could only be described as insane.

"Lu-lu! It's been so long since we last had some drinks!" exclaimed the man, slightly swaying as he stood I front of the cold-eyed Inspector.

"Doesn't look like that," muttered Alfred as the man swayed so violently he had to catch himself on a huge axe that he was carrying.

"Do _not _call me that," snapped Inspector Bondevik, his blue eyes flaming.

"Inspector," warned Emil, standing between the two men. "Densen, we did not call you out here for a social visit."

"Oh that's right, you wanted the location of the entrance to that secret-like base under that Ground Zero or whatever," said Andersen, somewhat slurring his words.

"That is correct," replied the Inspector coldly.

"Well, since Em-em here paid for all m'drinks last time around, I'll give it to you, 'cuz I'm just that great," said Andersen, pulling out a small piece of paper from his red and black coat.

Alfred snatched the paper from Andersen's hand as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"That there, that piece o' paper. That's some dangerous info," said Andersen waving his hand at the paper that Alfred was holding. "Well, since that's all ya wanted I'll be going now." Andersen stumbled back out the revolving door and into the street and disappeared back into the crowd.

"So where's the location of the entrance?" inquired Emil.

"It says that it's hidden beneath the flagstones of St. Paul's Churchyard, where one would exit to visit the graves," replied Alfred.

"Ingenious," muttered the Inspector to himself. "To hide the entrance to such a place in plain sight, where people walk every day and most likely one of the last places we would be expected to look."

"Well come on! We have to go!" exclaimed Alfred as he raced out of the building and onto the sidewalk.

He was soon followed by the two brothers. "There's so much traffic," stated Emil, looking out at the sea of cars, each one hardly moving and all of the drivers quite irritated.

Alfred looked around him and saw a bike rack. "Let's just borrow some of those!"

"We can't just _take_ someone's bike," said Emil dubiously.

"This is a matter of life and death! Do what you want, but I'm going!" yelled Alfred, racing to the bikes and grabbing one that didn't have a lock.

Alfred pulled the bike around and started pedaling as he hard as he could, not waiting to see if the two brothers would follow or not.

"Alfred wait! Let us catch up!" yelled Emil as he and his brother grabbed some bikes.

"What?" yelled back Alfred, as he hadn't heard the first time. He turned around this time to make sure he would hear what the officer had to say.

"Aaaggghhh!" screamed a familiar voice as Alfred felt his bike slam into something or, more precisely some_one._

Alfred braced himself for the impact with the ground as the bike toppled over.

Ow. Ow. Ow. _Ow._ God! This is the second time to-" started Gilbert as he sat up, looking to see who had hit him.

"_You!" _ shouted both of them at the same time.

"I swear to God, you and your shitty driving are screwed this time!" yelled Gilbert punching Alfred in the stomach.

"Shit. . . lemme. . . go. . . already," panted Alfred, backing away slowly.

"Not again you bastard! This is the second fu-" began Gilbert as he grabbed the front of Alfred's jacket.

Now he was twitching on the ground, Emil standing behind him with a Taser still pointed at him.

"Thanks," said Alfred, clutching his stomach as he regained his breath.

"No problem, he looked like and asshole anyway," replied Emil, picking up both of the fallen bikes. Inspector Bondevik stayed at a distance, clearly waiting to get moving again.

"Let's go," said Alfred, mounting his bike once again and pedaling off towards the churchyard.

When the three of them reached the entrance to the church, Alfred chucked his bike on the edge of the sidewalk and hurried inside. Even though the sun was beginning to set, it was still open to latecomers.

Alfred shuddered as he walked through the church, feeling as if the eyes from all of the statues and paintings were following him. He also imagined that he was hearing a voice that whispered to him, "_They're near. They need your assistance, da?"_

The two brothers followed Alfred slowly and cautiously, both of them taking in their surroundings as they went. They saw only an average church, nothing to tip them off that the entrance to a secret base was hidden somewhere near.

Alfred found the back exit leading towards the graves and walked through it. When he saw all of the tombstones he shuddered, but stayed calm. Looking beneath his feet, he saw a couple very large flagstones.

Kneeling down, he slowly tapped each one. The first was a solid thunk-sound. The result was the same with the second. Slowly working his way over to the side, Alfred kept tapping the ground.

On the flagstone farthest away from the street, Alfred tapped once again. But this time had a different result. When Alfred banged his fist against the hard stone, instead of a solid noise, there was a hollow echoing.

He had found the entrance to where his family was being held.

* * *

><p><strong>Soooo yeah. . . names. You all know who Yao and Roderich are. Probably. Wang Jia Long is Hong Kong. Im Yong Soo is South Korea. Xiao Mei is Taiwan. Hope this helped some!<strong>


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